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Clear SailingStanding at the helm of my time worn vessel, I tightly grasp the wheel and steer quickly toward the picturesque horizon. A warm, gentle gust of my future softly blows the hair off my flushed cheek. I unknowingly lean forward, subconsciously attempting to more quickly reach my goal. Infinite beauty captures my dazzled eyes and holds me captive by it's intoxicating charm. Looking aft, a churning wake of darkness and released pain moves decisively into the distance, becoming a negligible spot of gray, barely detected by the naked eye. I slice through time at an alarming pace in my quest toward the most glorious horizon ever painted by God, and slowly fill my lungs with a penetrating breath of hope, allowing it time to make its mighty imprint on my soul. With the ultimate determination, I accelerate to the fullest, wondering if I shall ever arrive at my utopia. Suddenly, a soft, barely audible voice whispers in my ear "Slow down, enjoy the ride, you're already there." Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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